Sandwich Girl
by iOnlyWatchTheStars
Summary: For the past two years, I've been receiving advanced calls for lunch orders from a registered name, Jennifer Lopez, or J Lo for short. Not once has she missed a day, so the one week she continually does, something doesn't feel right. (Three-Shot)
1. Chapter 1

**Title** : Sandwich Girl

 **Summary:** For the past two years, I've been receiving advanced calls for lunch orders from a registered name, Jennifer Lopez, or J Lo for short. Not once has she missed a day, so the one week she continually does, something doesn't feel right.

 **Rating:** T

 **Pairing:** Brittany/Santana

 **Genre:** Romance/Crime/Mystery

* * *

What if I said that I have this routine everyday of my life and it includes a girl I've never met?

For the past two years, the name Jennifer Lopez is registered in our restaurant's mobile phone for advanced orders and pick-ups. Not a day do we in Breadstix ever miss a call from her. Around 11am-1pm she would place a call every time, and an hour later, she'd pick it up. Her order would always be the same too, one, chicken pepper with Caesar dressing and wheat bread sandwich, and other times, she'd add a basket of breadsticks to the mix. The point is, there is not one day when she wouldn't call.

I'm the diner's cashier girl, so easily, I'm the one by the phone at all times waiting for any kind of call.

"Brittany! Phone!"

It's 12:30pm, still in the time range but later than usual. I turn to face my fellow co-worker, a white blonde named Quinn, with a smile. "Got it!" I reply, earning a hearty chuckle from the waitress.

I grab the iPhone placed on the side of the register and slide the green call button logo, grinning when I see the familiar name, _Jennifer Lopez_ , flash on the screen briefly.

"Breadstix, how may I help you?"

 _"Hi, one chicken pepper with Caesar dressing and wheat bread sandwich."_

Nodding my head as I pretend to scribble down her order on my small notepad, I hum in approval and ring the bell beside me, signalling our bus-person, Mike, to approach me.

"Will that be all?"

The voice on the other side sounds sleepy and tired, like how she always is every time she'd call.

 _"No, wait, actually, could you add in a basket of breadsticks too?"_

"Would you want extra garlic on it?"

The question was stupid because whenever I'd ask, she'd say no, and sadly, she doesn't seem to notice I was being playfully sarcastic to her because she sighs and grunts.

 _"No."_

I smile at Mike as he nears me and cover the mouth piece with my hand as I say, "J Lo with breadsticks." He gives me the thumbs up and rushes to the kitchen doors.

"Alright Ms. Lopez, that'll be—"

 _"I know how much."_ She snaps, and it doesn't surprise me because there are days when she'd explode on the phone. It makes me wonder what she does for a living.

"It'll be ready when you get here."

 _"Bye."_

Then she hangs up. I sigh and place the phone down, jumping in place when Quinn slaps my back out of nowhere. "Quinn?"

My friend chuckles at me. "Was she bitchy again today?"

I roll my eyes and hold back a smirk. "Yup, she barked at me or something like that."

"She's not a dog, Britt." Quinn replies whilst tightening the straps of her waitress apron.

I frown and furrow my eyebrows together. "But you just called her a bitch." I point out, and it causes her to throw her head back in laughter.

"Oh god! I forgot you're a genius!"

Shrugging my shoulders, I send her a wink. "Don't hate what you ain't." I joke and give a polite nod to one of the waiters that hands me a check from Table 12. I read through the bill and count the cash squeezed inside, not bothering to use a calculator as I ring up the cashier register and pull out the exact change. I hand it back to the waiter, and turn to Quinn who has her perfectly manicured eyebrow quirked up at me.

"Why do you still work here?" She asks me the same question she'd ask on other days with an amused grin, and I respond after typing a few things on the computer.

"Because I have nothing to do in my spare time."

Quinn leans on her elbows and watches the quiet crowd we oddly or luckily got for lunch hour. "Hm, I also forgot how weird it is that you earn so much being the creator of Kiki, yet you spend your mornings working in the diner."

I look up at the clock and check the time to see it's nearing 1pm. I face Quinn and click my tongue. "I don't like being lazy." I simply respond, untying my apron. I slowly walk backwards as I continue to talk to Quinn. "I have to go, lunch with the sister, but I'll see you tomorrow!"

Nodding her head, Quinn waves me goodbye. "Tell Katie I said hi!"

"I will!" I throw the apron towards the hanger and smile when it lands perfect on the hoop. I could hear Mike from the kitchen whistling at me and I couldn't help but wink back at him before suddenly remembering something.

"Mike, don't forget that J Lo-"

"-Always comes in after an hour call. I know, I know Britt. I've been preparing her food for 2 years now right? I still don't get why you remind me all the time. It'll be out fresh and ready."

Grinning from ear to ear, I say, "Just part of the routine, Chang. See ya!"

That's another thing, I've been taking 's calls for nearly 2 years now, but I have never, ever seen what she looks like. Only a description here and there from Mike, Quinn or any of the other waiters, but I only get a tad bit curious. She was like a mystery that doesn't need solving; a puzzle without any pieces to fix. She was just party of my daily routine and it's weird, but nice. I never got to see her because she always came in late to pick up her food, and I couldn't be in the store later than 1 because I had lunch with Katie before she'd go back to class. And in the afternoons, I'd keep watch of the activity of my app, Kiki and make sure it's running smoothly.

So yeah, I have a routine.

Nothing changes that.

* * *

"Morning Brittany."

I adjust the sunglasses perched on my nose and flash Mike a smile. "Morning Mike, is Quinn here already?"

He shakes his head and hands me over my apron. "Called in just a minute ago, said she'll be late because she had to run an errand."

"At 8am in the morning?"

Shrugging, he walks towards the kitchen doors as I switch my register on.

"Hey! Guess what!" Mike suddenly says, popping his head out from behind the large metal door. I quirk an eyebrow up at him in response as I take off my shades and place them inside my bag that I quickly hide inside the mini-locker under the counter I lock in safely. "So the divorced man came back last night with her ex-wife _and_ the new boyfriend."

"Whoa, really? Last time they spent breakfast here was the day he found out she was cheating on him and _now_ they're having a meal together?"

The chimes ring, signalling a customer entering the restaurant as our host welcomes her.

"Right? But get this, the boyfriend-"

"-Is his brother? Best friend? Nephew? Dad?"

Mike frowns at me as I let out a giggle at his expression. "You have a sad, sad mind, Britt."

"I can't help it!"

"Going back-" he drawls, clucking his tongue. "-the boyfriend is already married."

My eyes widen. "Why did I not guess that?"

He chuckles back at me. "Wife came by just as surprised as you are."

"The wife of the boyfriend came in too? Wow, that's a drama I never want to put myself in."

Mike puts up his hand for a high-5 that I gladly give. "Ditto, sister."

"Okay, okay, now what else did I miss?"

He taps his chin and turns to the clock, a thought suddenly appearing inside his head. "Jennifer Lopez never came for her food."

My fingers stop working and oddly, I feel my whole body tense up. It felt weird, I felt a tingling sense crawl up my spine as I digest his words. As I have mentioned, never forgets to place her order and pick it up, it was part of my routine, so forgive my reaction if I suddenly had the need to pinch myself.

Turning to Mike, I feel my face scrunching up in confusion. "Really?"

He nods, pulling out his rag to clean some parts of the front counter. "Her pick-up is still in the fridge, we never touched it."

"That's..." I trail off, finding a word to describe the oddness of the situation.

"Jennifer Lopez."

"No, no, I was thinking more of-" My head drifts off from its deep thoughts as my eyes settle on the woman standing in front of my counter front wearing blue hospital scrubs. Her hair was up in a messy ponytail, and her shoulder bag was way, way open. I could practically see her wallet popping out.

"-Gorgeous." I blurt out, blue orbs staring into dull brown ones that had their focus on Mike. I feel my throat tightening up and my hands sweating profusely as she sighs, cranes her neck side to side and then steps closer to the booth. She puts down her open bag and leans on top of it.

"Hey Chang." A silky, yet raspy voice greets my co-worker with no aura.

"Ms. Lopez." He replies back with a curt nod. "How may I help you?"

She groans and rubs the back of her neck, probably removing the ache she feels in there. "I forgot something."

He quirks an eyebrow up at her as I continue to stare and hopefully (not) drool at the beautiful deity. "Are you talking about your pick-up, Ms. Lopez?"

J Lo grits her teeth together and clenches her eyes shut. "What else would I be talking about?"

Mike forces a fake smile, knowing not to mess with customers. "Apologies, Ms. Lopez, it's just-the food has been in the fridge overnight and-"

She pulls out her wallet and stifles through her cash. "Look, I don't have all the time in the world. I hate not following my routine and yesterday was not a good one for me. And, if I don't pay for this and eat it to make sure it digests inside my stomach before lunch so that I can buy a new one, _this_ day is just going to get a whole lot worse."

I can't help but grin at her sass towards Mike even though I dislike the way she spoke to my co-worker.

"Now hurry up, and make sure blondie over there stops looking like a fool, flooding your restaurant with her saliva."

My eyes bulge out as my jaw drops at her words, and then all of a sudden, I feel the heat rushing up my veins to my brain. Just like that, my lips take an upside down turn.

"Excuse me, Miss?"

doesn't even budge.

"I don't mean to be rude but-"

"Britt-" Mike cuts in, placing a hand on my forearm as I realise just how tense my muscles have become. He leans in and whispers, "-Dont, she's different."

My jaw continues to clench as I fight not to strangle this woman who was carelessly dropping bills on the counter like it were paper money.

I force a smile and lick my lips. "Alright Ms. Lopez, that'll be-"

"I know how much." She snaps like she always do when I ask her that question.

Blood starts to boil within me as I accept the bills she clumsily slides towards me and punch it in. I huff and she does so too.

I never knew could be such a bitch Quinn assumes she would be.

Now I wish she'd come in already and see this.

"Wait a second-" she says, turning to face me with narrowed brown orbs. "You sound familiar."

I twist my head to her and flash the fakest smile I could ever muster. " _Breadstix, how may I help you?"_ I say in the voice I use whenever I'd answer the phone.

Recognition flashes on her face as she gasps and points a tan finger at me. "It's _stupid."_

 _"_ Excuse me?!" I almost yell, catching the attention of the morning couples that came here for breakfast. "Ms. Lopez, you don't have to be rude. We don't even know each other-"

"Right, okay, well what can I say? I call you, literally every single day of my life, yet you still ask me if I want extra _fucking_ garlic on my breadsticks all the damn time."

She knows.

She freaking knows.

"I was being polite!"

"You were being an idiot."

"I don't think it's proper to call people names after just meeting them."

"Can't help it, you've left quite an impression on me for the past year."

"I've been taking your orders for _two years._ " I correct her with a grit of my teeth.

She rolls her eyes at me. "Wow. Thanks, Sherlock."

"Okay-" Mike cuts in, placing two paper bags in between us. "Ms. Lopez, your order." He gestures kindly with a charming smile.

It doesn't work on though because she still has that stumped expression on her. "Thanks."

I let out a sarcastic laugh. "So she does have manners." I hiss.

whips her head to me and scowls. "I can report your behaviour to your manager."

Rolling my eyes, I step back. "Go ahead, I don't really care."

"It's your job."

"Part-time."

"Still, your job."

"Well then, it's a hobby!" I shriek, not believing how well this girl could test my patience. She isn't a goddess, hell no, she's the freaking devil of Hades herself!

She frowns at me, confused. "Being a cashier girl is your hobby? Now I revert back to my initial impression on you-"

"You are the rudest person I have ever met."

"Nice to meet you too, my receipt please?" she says in such a sickly sweet voice. "Don't tell me you're surprised I can say _please_ too?"

I rip out the piece of paper and slam it on the counter. "Come. Again." I reply in the lowest voice I can muster, with disdain.

She doesn't respond, just giving Mike a curt nod before sauntering away with her two paper bags of yesterday's lunch, and still, very open bag.

"That's the woman I've been talking to for 2 minutes for the past 2 years?!"

"Crazy how the world goes, huh?" Mike jokes with a laugh, stopping when I glare at him. "Kidding?"

"I am never taking her call-ever-again!" I huff, nearly tugging my hair off.

He looks at me with amusement. "It's kind of your job, Britt."

"I quit!" I suddenly shout, causing Mike to laugh some more even though I don't find this hilarious at all.

"You what?"

I twist to see Quinn just entering the booth with her hair up in a short pony.

"Britt met J Lo today." Mike told her with a glint in his eyes. "You should have seen it, I've never met anyone who can anger Britt-and that's saying something."

Quinn puts her apron on and quirks an eyebrow at us both. "Britt got mad? Are you sure?"

"Like I said, I'm quitting." I grunt, puffing hair away from my face where it stuck.

Mike points to me. "See."

Shaking her head, Quinn gathers up some trays and tosses her backpack to me. "Britt's never going to quit. And hon, please lock up my bag."

I do as I am told and watch as Quinn starts to work.

Looking at the clock on the wall, I frown.

4 free hours before the devil calls from hell.

* * *

"Someone called you stupid?" Katie asks, eyes wide as her mouth is still full with pasta. "Is that even allowed?"

"Unfortunately, there was no physical contact, so I can't sue her." I joke, causing Katie to frown at me.

"I can sue her for verbal harassment."

I sigh and twirl the salad I ordered. "But there isn't any proof."

"What an ass."

"Spoke the words right out of my mouth." I kid, chewing on the crouton. "She's pretty though."

Katie rolls her eyes at me. "Who cares! That doesn't matter when the inside is rotten."

"Like a sad, sad egg."

"Rotten egg."

"Ladies, would you like a refill?" the waiter asks as he holds up a metal pitcher.

I nod my head yes and so does Katie.

"You know, have I ever told you how much I love having lunch with you?"

I smile and flash my little sister a wink. "Everyday of my life."

She chuckles and rests her head on the palm of her hand. "It's like, the highlight of my day. I love how you're rich and you can just treat me to this super fancy restaurant all the time."

I shrug my shoulders nonchalantly. "You love their pasta, I can't do anything about it."

Giggling, Katie nods. "I really do. The seafood they use taste so fresh."

"Only the best for my Kate." I hum, reaching across the round table to pinch her cheeks. "I hope you never grow old."

"Britt, I'm only 4 years younger than you."

"Still, be my little teenager for a little while, will you?"

"But I'm 22?" She laughs, shaking her head at my antics. We continue eating before the waiter comes up to ask if we wanted anything else.

I turn to Katie and she licks the sauce off her lips. "No, that's fine, thank you."

Facing the waiter, I flick my hair to one side and grin up at him. "Bill, please."

He nods and walks away.

"By the way Britt, could we move our lunch tomorrow an hour later? Around 3? I just need to do something beforehand."

I wave it off. "Don't worry, just text me when you're near here."

Katie smiles at me and giggles. "Awesome."

* * *

"Breadstix, how may I help you?"

"I'd like a—"

"Got it." I cut the familiar voice with a monotone voice. "Will that be all?"

There was silence on the other line and I can't help the giant grin from forming on my lips. It was fun being in the upper hand.

"Bre—"

"Got it."

A growl and then all of a sudden, the line goes off. I pout and look down at the device, watching the flashing words _Call Ended_ blink a couple of times before it vanishes. Then I wonder if she hung up because she doesn't want her order anymore or because of me.

And then I realize she never goes a day without her food and laugh when the answer is most certainly, me.

"Mike!"

"Brittany!"

We say at the same time, eyeing each other wearily. "Uhm," I begin and it causes Mike to chuckle lightly. "Yes? Are you psychic or something?"

He shakes his head. "Nope, but the boss wants to speak to you."

Frowning, I wave a hand at one of the free waitresses and kindly asked if she could take over for me as I make my way to the small office at the back. It may be small but it's a nice little place with a modern look to it.

I knock on the door until a loud and low voice ushers me in.

"Hey boss." I greet him, watching as he reads over a few papers. "You asked for me?"

He looks up and it makes his eyeglasses slide further down the tip of his nose.

"Brittany. Please sit."

I follow him and smooth over my black skirt. "Is something wrong?"

He stops shuffling through papers and sighs, setting them all down—still very messily. "I was going through my divorce papers—"

Totally unnecessary.

"—when a valued customer of mine decided to drop a complaint."

"Okay—" I drawl, licking my dry lips and trying to piece together what was going on and why I was needed.

He looks at me without any sort of emotion.

"It's Ms. Lopez, Brittany."

My eyes pop open and I feel my jaw dropping. I did not expect that at all.

"Jennifer Lopez?!" I hiss, and it only brings confusion to my boss's face.

His name is Burt Hummel.

"What?" He asks me, utterly perplexed. "The singer? She eats here?" His old, saggy cheeks bunch up and a smile starts to show itself. " _The_ Jennifer Lopez eats in _my_ restaurant?"

I put a hand up and shake my head immediately. "Oh no, I'm sorry—I meant, Ms. Lopez—we uh—sorry, we call her Jennifer Lopez because that's the name she gave us whenever she'd order up."

Burt's gleaming eyes suddenly turn bored and slightly disappointed. "Huh." He grunts, scratching his bald head. "Well, no, her name is Santana Lopez."

Oddly enough, Jennifer soothed her more. Maybe it was because of her sass, … or ass.

"And she left an awfully big complaint just a minute ago."

"That fast…" I mumble, feeling a vein nearly pop in my head.

"About our phone holder being very rude to her this early in the morning."

"It's 12pm!" I retort, but Burt disses me off by continuing.

"Now Brittany, I've never had a customer complaint when it comes to you and I'm having a hard time to believe this situation."

I groan and rub my closed eyelids in frustration. "Because it's not true!"

He raises an eyebrow. "It isn't?" he tries me.

Pouting, I cross my arms together irritably. "She was rude first."

Burt sighs and clasps his hands together. "I am going to ignore that."

"Are you going to fire me?"

"No Brittany, this is your 1st warning." He tells me with a small smile, almost like he's laughing at the idea of firing me. "And hopefully the last. Anyways, you have Ms. Lopez's number, send her an apology text and—oh, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." He points to the clock and it's nearly 1pm already.

I sigh and stand up, forcing an awkward smile. "Thanks, boss."

* * *

"Dear Ms. Santana (not J Lo) Lopez, I sincerely apologize for saying what I had to say because it brought up something within me which is the result of a bad encounter with a lady a few days ago. Sincerely, Brittany of Breadstix."

Katie looks like she's about to burst out laughing after she reads the exact text message I've sent to Ms. J Lo—oh wait, _Santana_ , before leaving the restaurant. She looks up at me and grins toothily.

"You do know a person like her is just going to do something way worse than complaining to your boss for payback right?"

I shrug my shoulders indifferently. "People like her don't deserve kindness."

My sister returns me phone to me and leans back on her chair. "Well, your boss wouldn't be happy to hear that."

"Luckily I'm not desperate for a job."

Grinning, Katie chuckles at me. "But you love being a cashier girl."

"No—" I drawl, clucking my tongue as I play with my food. "I love math."

She flicks her hair to one side and hums. "No difference to me."

"It's just—" I stop, finding the right word to describe this woman who has been buying the same food for the past two years and has not bothered me since until this day. "—she's infuriating."

"You said she's a doctor?"

I nod, tapping my chin. "She wore scrubs the first time I saw her, you know the ones you see on TV?"

"Or the ones you literally see in a hospital." Katie jokes, causing me to blush in embarrassment.

"Well, that too." I grunt, taking a bite of my meal. "How can someone like her be a doctor? Aren't they supposed to be sweet, nice, caring and wanting to save lives?"

Katie takes a sip of her water and replies, "You're being stereotypical now."

"Am not. I'm being logical, Kate. You can't be a doctor if you don't have a heart."

"She has a heart, Brittany."

"No, no…" I hum, suddenly deep in thought. "I don't think she actually has one."

Katie laughs and raises her hand, signaling for the bill. I quirk my eyebrow up at this and she flashes me a shy smile. "I know you always pay for us because you're like, super rich, but, I'd like to pay once in a while."

"You should save your money, Kate, it's okay, I got this." I stretch my arm out to accept the bill from the waiter when my little sister snatches it away from my reach.

She wags a finger at me. "I know you do, but let me do this."

I let her be and say thanks as we continue to laugh over weird conversations.

* * *

It's been 3 days.

"You don't look so well, Britt." Mike tells me whilst poking my cheek.

I flinch at his warm touch and snap my blue eyes at him. "What?"

Quinn slides right next to me and frowns. "Mike's right. You're looking quite pale."

Touching my face gently, I realize that I am in fact, a bit cold. "Can't be, I'm never sick."

"Probably not a sickness." Quinn says, passing a tray of food to one of the waiters. "'Cuz I know you never get sick too."

"But I don't feel so good." I huff, pouting at the disgruntled feeling I sense inside my tummy. "I think I might hurl."

"Want to take the day off?" the white-blonde suggests, pulling out her notepad as she rips out the order and hands it to Mike.

I shake my head. "No, it's nothing too bad." I mutter, re-tying my hair up in a bun. I place my hands on my waist and huff. "Queasy is the correct adjective."

"Ate something bad last night?" Mike tries, and again, I disagree, when all of a sudden, my eyes land on the iPhone resting beside the cashier register.

Quinn follows my eyes and instantly, a smirk graces her lips. "Oh, I know what this is."

Turning back to my friend, I tilt my head to the side and pout. "Really?"

Humming, Quinn nods with a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Yup, you, my friend, are definitely sick."

Mike and I look to each other then back at the short haired blonde with that scary grin on her face.

"But—I thought we said I wasn't?"

Quinn giggles and grabs Mike's collar, whispering something to his ear then nudging her chin to the direction of the cashier register. I furrow my eyebrows together and stare at the register.

What's so interesting about that old thing?

Mike's eyes suddenly go wide and he snorts—actually snorts—before turning back to me with the same look Quinn has on.

"I agree with Quinn, you're very sick."

"Ha, ha, very funny guys."

"Uhuh—and it's viral."

"You have to get checked _ASAP."_

I stare at the two of them like their crazy and cross my arms together, leaning on one leg as I jut my chin up. "What in the world are the two of you doing?"

Quinn jumps on her feet and winks at me. "Britt, you're sick, and you need to go to the hospital soon."

Mike chuckles, nodding his head. "Very soon if this is how bad she looks already."

"Seriously, I'm not getting any of this."

"Hospital's not that far either."

"Hello? Why do you think she always walks here? She wouldn't be calling us if it was far."

I place my hands on the counter and groan. "I am totally confused! I feel like a blonde."

"You are a blonde."

Glaring at Mike, I turn to Quinn as I narrow my eyes on her. "What are you and Mike trying to say, Q?"

Giggling, Quinn raises her hands up and says, "It's J Lo!"

Frowning, which I feel like I've been doing a lot lately, I lick my lips and pause for a moment.

"Santana?"

"The bitch doctor! Yes!"

Mike laughs at Quinn and they high-five.

"What about her? Why is _she_ suddenly the topic of our conversation." I grit my teeth together in annoyance.

Mike puts his hand on my forehead.

"She's heating up Quinn!" He squeals like a freaking girl.

"She's not sick anymore?"

I flail my hands in the air and calm down when one of the waiters hands me the check. I give him a shy smile, fixing up the change and receipt before turning back to the other two. "I was never sick."

"Oh you so are—because you want to go to the hospital and get treated by the one and only, Doctor Lopez!" Quinn all but giggles, causing my jaw to drop.

"You think Santana Lopez is the reason why I look like shit?!" I nearly scream, catching the attention of only a few people as Mike leaves briefly to deliver some of the food to Table 6. I then realize what I've said, and blush. I rarely curse, especially in a professional setting.

Quinn nods. "Totally, it's so obvious."

Mike leans in. "You've been staring at the phone since the clock struck 11."

I turn to the digital device on the wall and gulp when I notice it's nearing 1pm.

"It's my job to stare at the phone." I reason out.

"No, it's your job to answer it when it rings." Quinn corrects me with a wag of her fingers as the hostess approaches her and points to a table that needs to be attended to. "Excuse me, I forgot I have a _job_ to do." She jokes, gliding away.

Sadly, Mike speaks for her in continuation. "Quinn's right. You're super bothered by the fact she hasn't called since you sent her the apology text."

"Or since she's been rude to me?" I retort with a strain in my voice that Mike quickly catches.

"Do you feel guilty?" He asks me, eyebrows rising up in question.

I shake my head. "No, I didn't do anything wrong."

"I think you feel like you're the reason she isn't calling back."

Sighing, I rub my forehead. "I should be grateful she stopped calling, it's a downer to hear her mean voice all the time."

"But she's a valued customer."

"Just because she orders everyday?"

Quinn comes back and smiles at us. "What'd I miss?"

"Nothing!" I respond immediately, grabbing the iPhone and flipping it upside down so the screen wouldn't be exposed. "So what if she hasn't called for 3 days? I'm probably just weirded out by it because I didn't think she'd be the type of girl to give up so easily."

"And you got that after one day of meeting her?" Quinn asks me and I shrug.

"I've been listening to her voice for 2 years." I explain, making Mike ponder.

"So—" he drawls out with his tongue. "You got that after listening to her voice for 2 years?"

Quinn stifles a laugh as she walks away and so does Mike, leaving me flabbergasted.

"I am _not_ bothered." I hiss, blushing hard when the both of them don't turn around to reply to me.

I'm really not, though.

* * *

"7 days." I mumble, playing with the screen of the restaurant's iPhone as I rest my chin on an open palm. "She hasn't called in a week." I say in a small voice, sensing a wrench in my gut.

I don't know why, but something doesn't seem right.

Sadly, Quinn heard me. "She probably found a new store to mess with." She tells me slowly, testing her words.

I shake my head. "That's not it. I just-It's weird, something is definitely wrong, Quinn."

"Don't let it get to you too much, B. You're just overthinking it."

My eyes snap up to the clock as it strikes 1 and all of a sudden, I feel the urge to do something about my thoughts; my bothered thoughts. I open the locker to my bag and pull out my phone, immediately sending a message to Katie before she heads up to our usual lunch place.

 _Sorry I can't make it today, something urgent came up. How about tomo?_

Pulling out my bag and placing it on the counter, I untie my apron and walk to the hanger section.

"What hospital did you say J Lo works at?" I ask Quinn when she walks back with her notepad, ripping it and sliding it to the open window that's connected to the kitchen.

"I didn't say?" Quinn replies with a confused look. "Why do you ask?"

Shrugging my jacket up my shoulder, I walk back to the counter and hoist my bag higher. "Where's the nearest hospital here?" I ask instead, ignoring her other question.

"There's only one hospital in the area, Britt."

I pause, waiting for an answer when a bleeping noise catches my attention. I look down at my phone and read Katie's message.

 _No prob, Britt! Tomorrow it is, see ya!_

I smile and reply back with a _Love you,_ before turning back to Quinn who's still eyeing me suspiciously.

"Well? Are you going to make me google it?"

Quinn chuckles and shakes her head at me. "St. Calista's General Hospital. It's by the bakery we went to the other week, you won't miss it. Actually, how do you _not_ know the only medical facility in-"

As Quinn starts yammering, I grab the store's phone and search for the name Jennifer Lopez that's registered in it. I save it to my own cellular device just in case I needed it and then I look back up just in time to cut her off.

"I don't get sick, remember?" I slide the phone back to Quinn and wave her goodbye.

Stepping out of Breadstix and into the cool air of the city, I exhale and start my walk towards St. Calista's General Hospital.

The reason I'm doing this is because my head's literally killing me with all the mystery and anxiety. Let's not forget the sinking feeling my stomach gets whenever the clock on the wall strikes 11, 12, or 1pm during the day. I need to see it for myself, to know that I am not going crazy or becoming a lunatic. I don't know why it bothers me, it's probably because I'm a girl of routine, and nothing should be messed up.

This Santana Lopez really knows how to ruin a day.

I'll just ask the information desk if she's in there and be out on my way. I could probably surprise Katie if I have the time too.

Like I said, I'm a woman of routine, and cancelling on Katie so suddenly without a heads up just makes me queasy.

As soon as I catch sight of the bakery Quinn and I went to the other day for some cupcakes, I nearly laugh upon seeing the huge, wide, vast space area that consists of a hospital building. How I managed to not see this is beyond me. I should probably plan a day to explore the city more.

I hug my jacket tighter around me and skid through the crowd entering the hospital. It's not as cold inside as it is outside, and I sigh in relief.

Looking around the facility, I feel for my cellular phone inside the pocket of my jeans and suddenly get very nervous.

This is stupid; I should just call up Katie and ask if it's not too late to have lunch.

Mike and Quinn are right; she probably hated me and went for another store that serves her favourite kind of sandwich and breadsticks.

I'm about to spin around on the heels of my feet when my eye catches the sign that says in blinking lights,

 _Information Desk._

"Ugh." I groan, licking my quivering lips. I should just ask, and go. Ask and go, ask and go.

And after that, my mind will be clear of any worries and I'll go on with my day without a bothered thought.

With confidence, I stride up to the counter that's thankfully free o people and lean forward on my elbows. I smile politely to the man on a wheelchair with headphones on as he continues to talk to people on the line. When he sees me, he stops, says goodbye and wheels closer to me.

"Hello Miss, what can I do for you?"

I clasp my hands together and respond. "Hi, I just wanted to know if Dr. Santana Lopez is in the hospital today?"

He slides his headphone down to rest on his shoulders and grabs the telephone. He punches in a few numbers and puts it by his ear and kindly tells me to wait. I tap my fingers impatiently on the silver furniture and jump slightly when the receptionist starts to talk again.

"Sorry, may I have your name?"

I bite my lower lip and hesitantly say, "Pierce, Brittany Pierce."

He smiles, nods, and goes back to the phone. After a few more mumbling, he hangs up and turns to me.

"I'm sorry she's not here."

Great.

Just great.

Now my mind is going to go nuts.

"She's not here?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows together. "Are you sure?"

The receptionist, whose name is Artie after reading the nameplate on his shirt, frowns at me and chuckles lightly. "Yes, I'm pretty sure her secretary just said she isn't in the office right now."

"Secretary?" I mutter, wringing my fingers together. "She has a secretary? Isn't she a doctor?"

Artie gives me a weird look. "Um, yes, Dr. Lopez is one of the greatest cardiologists in the world." He points to these green that's facing me, the outside portion of the information area, with the list of all the cardiologists. 's name is seen on top.

Wow, number 1 in the hospital and she's famous around the world?

Oh and wait, she's a cardiologist too?

She saves hearts, yet, she doesn't have one. How ironic is that.

Artie notices my amused expression and was about to wheel away when I jump back in with the questions. "Sorry, sorry, it's just-she didn't show up to her-" I think an acceptable word. "-appointment?"

"Appointment? I'm sorry Ms. Pierce but what appointment would that be?"

I lick my lips nervously and inhale. "Uh-" exhale, "Lunch reservations."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "You came all the way here because she didn't show up for her lunch reservations?"

Almost slapping my face in embarrassment, I grit my teeth together and calm myself down. "Can I just-Can I just speak to her secretary?" I try instead, and Artie seems relieved to be out of my crazy hair as he puts his headphones back on and says something to the mic before looking at me again.

"Sure, just go to the top floor, Chief Lopez doesn't like meeting anyone without reserving at least a month before but since she's not here right now, you can meet with her secretary and schedule one for December. It's the only room that's not a patient room." He gestures to the elevator and I pivot on my feet, walking away when something catches my attention.

I head back to Artie and press my palms against the cool marble. "Did you just say Chief Lopez?"

Again, he flashes me a weird look. "Is there a problem, Miss?"

Shaking my head, I force a laugh and step backwards. "Sorry, rough day." And quickly dash for the elevator doors.

I let out a deep exhale as soon as I enter and asked the person next to me if it was okay to press the top floor button. I wait until it goes to the very top and step outside to a rush of madness.

People are running around everywhere and I have to dodge a few running doctors in scrubs and lab coats before I spot someone who isn't like she's in a hurry. I approach her and lightly tap her on the shoulder.

"Hi." I say slowly, stiffening when I see the woman I'm talking to with a scowl on her face.

Are all doctors mean-looking?

"I'm looking for a Dr. Lopez? Her office?"

The familiar name strikes something inside the woman, and her face becomes neutral as she extends a finger out to point towards a man that's not in scrubs, but a lab coat, talking furiously on the phone.

"That's her secretary, Blaine Anderson, you can talk to him." And with that, she walks away with a book in hand.

I walk towards this Blaine Anderson and debate if whether or not this is a good idea.

"Hello," I greet the man with a hairstyle that's way too fixed for someone who works in a hospital. "You must be Blaine Anderson? Santana—I mean, Dr. Lopez's secretary?"

He turns to me with cautious eyes, dropping his phone inside his coat. "That's me, do you need anything dear?"

At least he was nice.

"I uhm, I was wondering if you know where she is." I ask him nervously, receiving a light chuckle.

"You and every patient in this hospital." He jokes, causing my heart to beat faster. He notices my confused expression and explains it to me. "She hasn't been here for nearly a week now. Which is weird, because the Chief never misses a day of work."

She was the Chief of this hospital? Amazing.

"I've been transferring all of her surgeries and appointments to other doctors but I'm still a mess here."

I don't think he was allowed to say that to a stranger like me, but the stress must be getting to him.

"So," he clasps his hands together. "If you are a patient of the Chief's, I'm sorry but we will have to reschedule you to another doctor until further notice."

I tighten the grip I have on my shoulder bag and step forward. "And you're—you're not worried at all that she hasn't called in sick or, or—hasn't came to work yet?" I ask, bewildered.

Blaine gives me an offended look but brushes it off. "Of course I am, we all are, she's our chief, we can't do anything without her approval even if it goes to the second in command if she isn't here."

Again, I don't think he's supposed to say things like that.

This guy must be really, really stressed out.

"My job's way easier with her around, so yes, I'd like her back, but, she hasn't been answering any of our calls, so I'm sorry Miss, you'd just have to wait."

But I can't wait; waiting is going to kill me.

I look ahead of me and see a door without a number encrypted on it.

It must be her office.

"Okay, thanks I guess, Dr. Anderson."

"No problem." He flashes me one last smile and walks away. I look around me for any watchers but shrug my shoulders when I realize everyone is too busy with their own personal lives. So in a quick manner, I sneak into 's office and close the door behind me, glad to see the windows are covered by blinds.

I lean back on the door and sigh.

"What's wrong with me?" I say to no one in particular, looking up at the marvelous black ceiling with white dots scattered.

I should just go home. Do my work; watch over my app.

But something is definitely wrong here.

And when I observe the office of the woman who has been speaking to me on the phone, asking for her order for the past 2 years, nothing is a mess.

It almost looks too perfect.

"This is stupid." I mumble, turning around to face the door. I'm about to twist the doorknob and head out before I get into deep trouble because surely, not just anyone can be inside here I bet, a ring resonates around the room.

I frown and look over my shoulder. The room is still the same with the exception of the ringing noise. I step further inside when I see a blinking light on the floor by her table. I crouch down and see a black iPhone with a cracked screen. I pick it up and bring it to eye level.

 _909-466-4260_

It was an unknown number and I let it ring it out until the call drops and it goes back to lock screen. An image of J Lo with a younger version of her, probably a sister, flashes right at me.

She has a nice smile, way different than her usual scowl that seems to appear inside my head whenever I think of her.

I slide the phone but it's locked with a passcode.

"Figures. She seems uptight." I huff, blowing my hair away from my face where it falls.

I nearly jump in place when the phone rings again.

Nibbling on my lower lip, I slide it open and bring it to my ear.

This is stupid, I should have just left.

"H-Hello?" I answer dumbly, wanting nothing more than to smack my face against the wall. Never in my life have I done something so reckless.

There's a screechy noise, probably because the other line has bad reception, before I finally hear a panting sound.

"Hello?" I say again with a more calm tone, glancing back at the door, scared if someone was going to enter.

 _"Who the fuck is this?"_

Eyes widening, I nearly drop the phone when I all but recognize the voice I've been listening to for such a long time.

"J Lo?" I gasp, hand covering my open mouth when I oddly feel the sense of relief rush through my veins.

Now I feel much better.

 _"What? Who is—wait a second, who are you and why do you have my phone?"_

"Why don't you have your phone?" I retort, rolling my eyes at the attitude I so _not_ miss.

" _Nevermind, I don't have time—"_ she grunts, coughing a couple of times on the other side. " _—hold up—"_ she stops, coughing again, much louder, and then groaning for a bit. "— _I know this voice—sandwich girl?"_

"It's Brittany." I huff, jaw clenching tight at the title.

" _I don't have much time."_ She ignores my last statement, sounding hoarse and repeating her words. _"I've been trying to call the only number I memorize and I'm just fucking ecstatic somebody finally answered."_

Being completely clueless of the situation happening on her end, I reply jokingly, "You've been calling Breadstix for 2 years and you still don't memorize our number?"

She doesn't laugh.

In fact, she doesn't even have a snarky reply.

 _"Listen to me sandwich girl—"_

"—Brittany—"

 _"I can't talk long right now but I need you to give this phone to my secretary, Blaine Anderson, and—"_

There's a ruckus on the other end, and more rustling before I hear an odd wooshing—it's a wooshing sound okay—and then silence.

And then, a scream.

I press my ear closer to the phone like it would help me hear more.

Weirdly, it does. Plus a bit of concentration too.

" _I heard noises—what the fuck was that?"_

A spit.

 _"Bitch, you asked for it."_

A slap. Breaking noises.

" _I'm not one for hitting women, but you're an exception—now what the hell was that noise."_

 _"Me duele la cabeza, idiota!"_

Okay—I did not get that at all.

" _Does she really not speak English?"_

 _"She does. I work with her. She's just trying not to answer you."_

More breaking noises and I feel the sudden urge to yell at them to stop whatever they were doing.

" _Look, Lopez, we don't want to injure you, god knows you'll save yourself on your own being a doctor and all, just answer the question—in English, what was that noise we just heard."_

A spit.

 _"Going once."_

 _"I was talking to myself, la chorra!"_

 _"Highly doubt that. Answer the question. Going twice."_

 _"Please…"_

I nearly break the phone at the weak voice I hear on the other side.

" _Please… please don't, I was really talking—talking to myself. I – That's what I do, especially in my—my job."_

Silence before a door slamming shut is resonated through my ears.

There's some shuffling before I hear whimpering noises.

Trying my luck, I whisper. "Santana?"

No answer, and then, the phone switches off.

Out of battery.

Fuck.

* * *

Part I End.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title** : Sandwich Girl

 **Summary:** For the past two years, I've been receiving advanced calls for lunch orders from a registered name, Jennifer Lopez, or J Lo for short. Not once has she missed a day, so the one week she continually does, something doesn't feel right.

 **Rating:** T

 **Pairing:** Brittany/Santana

 **Genre:** Romance/Crime/Mystery

* * *

I've never ran so fast in my entire life, dashing out of the office, and ignoring the people around me as I got out of the hospital and headed towards my apartment building. Santana's cry and weep still ring in my ears as I huff and puff out air, having not exerted this much effort in running for years.

I briefly wave to my doorman as I rush up the stairs, forgetting all about the elevator and slamming the keys into the keyhole as I go in and head to my bedroom immediately.

Sharing a large apartment floor with my sister, I am thankful she isn't here at the moment because of her classes. I grab the charging wire from my desk and plug it in J Lo's phone.

I groan when I realize it's probably going to take a few minutes before the phone turns back on as I hastily pace around my room waiting for the screen to blink on.

Time could not go any slower.

I'm startled by a ringing noise, causing me to quickly rush towards the source and sigh when I realize it was actually coming from my own phone.

 _Mom._

I slide it open and answer, slightly out of breath. "Mom?"

" _Hello sweetie! Just calling to check on you."_

Glancing back at the dead phone on my desk, I sigh and decide to talk to my mom to pass the time and distract myself from freaking out on the dire situation. "Well, how are you?"

" _Your dad and I are doing great, thank you! How about you and Katie?"_

I smile weakly and duck my head down. "She's great, she's at class right now, I'll tell her you called."

 _"Okay, but you only half-answered my question."_ My mom replies sweetly. I pout and make a noise of recognition.

"I'm fine." I say, shoulders slumping when I realized how _not_ fine I actually am; Santana's cry still stuck inside my head. "Just dandy.

 _"Doesn't sound like you are."_

A white flash catches my eye and as soon as I see the black apple logo, I feel my throat tighten up. "Ma-ma—" I stop her before she can say anything else. "Something's burning."

 _"Brittany! Did you leave the stove on again? Sweetie we can't let what happen to the old apartment—"_

I blush, clenching my eyes shut for a second. "Bye mom, I love you!"

Throwing my phone to the direction of my bed, I sit down on the carpet floor and let out a big exhale upon seeing the familiar image of J Lo—Santana, with her younger version self whom I assume is her sister. I wait for a call, but nothing comes. I try to slide the device open but again, there's a passcode.

"Fuck." I curse, which is rare since I'm super stressed out right now.

Who knows what could be happening to her? And I don't know how I got into this position, but I know I can do something to help her. Anything.

I wait, and wait, changing my sitting position from time to time as I continue to stare at the phone with that radiant smile on the screen.

By the time it reaches 8pm, I'm half-asleep but still trying my best to be alert when a ring comes.

The whole night, it doesn't.

The next day I take a bath, brush my teeth, put my clothes on with the phone at eye-and-arm's length. I eat my breakfast with the phone right in front of me; it's black screen haunting me as I wait for it to ring with the number J Lo used to contact her own phone.

Then I wonder if maybe this is all a prank, and she's doing this to me since I got her the last time. Things like this don't happen to normal people like me, only to crazy ones like Quinn maybe, but not me. I'm a good girl, so why am I in this situation?

I now think of the time Quinn told me that knowing a girl like J Lo, she probably has something up her sleeve and this could be it.

But deep down, I know it's not.

I walk to Breadstix with J Lo's phone tucked inside my bra, by my right breast. With this, the phone is safe, I won't lose it, and when it rings, I'll know as soon as possible. I know it's unsafe because of radiation, but right now is not the time to think of breast cancer—

Or is it?

"Morning guys." I greet the early waiters and waitresses as I enter the store with slouched shoulders. I see our hostess, Rachel, waving at me before she skips to the front of the restaurant. She's new by 2 months and from what I heard from Quinn, she's an aspiring actress like every hostess in this city.

I put on my apron, lock my bag safely on the locker beneathed my beloved register and lean forward on my open palms, the weight of the phone by my breast causing me to sweat profusely.

"Are you still sick?" Quinn asks me as I eye her movements. "You look even worse than yesterday."

I open my mouth about to tell her the situation, but decide against it, only thinking it would be such a drama to be thinking about during work and that I shouldn't hassle more people than I should. But maybe it would be better to ask for help from others because unfortunately, I can't do this alone and I also might need a hacker to help me get passed the passcode in this phone, get the number J Lo used to contact me and track her down—if she really is in deep trouble.

"Q, do you know anyone perhaps that's good with computers?" I ask her, watching as she fixes her apron around the waist and fiddles with the 2 pens she always carries around with her. She turns to me with furrowed eyebrows. "Um, isn't Katie a computer engineering major?"

I nearly slap myself on the face upon hearing her words. Sometimes I really can be a blonde. I don't even know why I didn't think of that.

"And aren't _you_ good with computers, Ms. App-Famous?"

I shake my head, nibbling on the nail of my thumb that Quinn glares at in disapproval. It was a nervous habit of mine since I was a kid. "I only designed Kiki, I didn't do all the techy stuff."

"Huh." She hums, tapping her chin. "Maybe I should create an app too so I wouldn't be in this dinner all day!"

"Shh, don't want the boss hearing that." Mike cuts in with a laugh, walking away to continue doing his job.

"I feel like we gossip more than we work." I point out in a soft voice, causing Quinn to look at me weirdly. "But thanks Q, I don't think I'd realize that until it was too late."

"Too late for what?"

I shake my head, going back to the register as a co-worker gives me a check. "Nothing."

I bring my hand up to my right chest and feel my heart beating faster as I caress the material over the black phone. I hope J Lo is okay.

Lunch with Katie could not come any sooner. As soon as the clock strikes 1, and after more bickering from Mike and Quinn about J Lo not calling again, I run out of the restaurant and make a dash towards Katie and I's usual lunch place. She's already seated in our regular table as I walk through the white doors. Katie looks up and finds me with her darker blue eyes and waves me over.

"Hey sis."

"Hi Kate." I mumble, leaning forward to peck her in the cheek in greeting as she does the same.

"You left pretty early today." She tells me as she calls for the waiter's attention.

I place the napkin on my lap and lick my lips. "And you came home super late."

She shrugs her shoulders and leans back on her chair. "Some friends of mine wanted to hang out at their place, I'm sorry I forgot to call."

"Mom called me."

"Did she?"

"Yeah and—" My eyes go wide when I realize I shouldn't be having this unnecessary conversation. I slam my hands on the table, blushing when I've caught the attention of a few people and stare back into Katie's eyes as she gives me an odd look. "You know how to hack right?"

Katie flushes and glances around her surrounding area before leaning close to me on her elbows. "I guess so? Why?"

I dump my hand inside my bra and pull out a phone, earning a slight jaw drop from Katie as she watches me, but has this familiar look on her face like she's used to my weird antics. I bring up the cracked-screen iPhone to her eye level and waggle it.

"Can you hack an iPhone?"

She stares at the phone before taking a sip of her water. "I—uh—"

The waiter comes to get our orders and I groan when Katie attends to him first, when he turns to me, I snap my order at him and turn back to Katie.

"Are you okay, Britt?"

"Can you hack this phone?"

She looks at J Lo's iPhone again then back at me. "Probably."

"Yes or no?!"

"I don't see why you can't just slide it open."

"It has a passcode, Kate."

"Is that even your phone? Yours is white."

I place the phone back on the table and sigh. "It's not mine."

She narrows her eyes on me. "Whose is that?"

"Not important, Kate! Can you or can't you?"

"You mean _can you not?"_

I pout. "Isn't that the same thing?"

"Seems not."

"Are you even good at your major? Is that why you're stalling? You actually don't know how?"

That finally seems to get her because she stops midway from drinking her glass of water and pauses for a second. Katie's dark blue eyes turn to me and narrow in a half-glare as she places her drink on the table and clenches her jaw.

"I know how." She grunts, her neatly trimmed eyebrows arching down in insult. "Give me the damn phone."

I smirk and giggle lightly at the situation and slide the phone to her. She huffs, picking it up to inspect it as our waiter comes over deliver our orders. She eyes the crack wearily.

"That's a huge crack." She notes, glancing at me briefly. "Where in the world did you get this phone?"

"It's a friend of mine's."

She presses the power button and it flashes on. She looks at the screen then back to me.

"What? What's wrong Kate?"

Katie turns the phone to me, letting me face the screen with a wallpaper image that I surely have implanted stuck in my head by now.

"I've never seen any of them in my life before. Are you sure they are your friends?"

I gulp. "The girl on the left is my friend."

She twists the phone back in her direction and frowns. "Like I said, I haven't seen any of them in my life."

"Santana's new." I mumble, hoping she wouldn't hear that blurt but unfortunately, she did. Her eyes nearly bulge out of its sockets as she says, or nearly screams,

"This is Santana (not J Lo) Lopez?!"

"What?"

"The apology text message?"

Oh. Right, her memory sure is clear for something that happened a week ago.

"Yes, her."

She flips her eyes to the phone screen then to me then again, and again, until I roll my eyes and say, "Will you stop it?"

"Okay when you said she was pretty, I didn't know she was hot!"

I frown. "She isn't hot."

Katie gives me a disbelieving look. "You must be blind." She retorts, staring at the screen again. "Even with a damn crack slashing her face, she's quite the pretty one."

"Okay," I drawl, clucking my tongue. "Can you hack it or not?"

Frowning, Katie juts her lower lip out. "Hold on a second, why do you have the doctor-you-hate's phone?"

"It's a long story, Kate." The cry of Santana's scared voice comes to mind again. "And I don't have time." I groan, suddenly gripping the table cloth tightly with my fists. "She's in trouble, big trouble—way bad trouble and I need to call her as soon as—"

 _Ring. Ring._

Kate and I look at the black phone on her hand as it vibrates with the number I dumbly didn't remember.

 _909-466-4260_

I gasp and point at the phone. "Katie! Kate! Give me a pen now!"

Katie's eyes are wide and she's frozen as I hastily reach down for my bag and unzip it, grabbing for my own ballpen instead. I need to write this number down and answer J Lo ASAP.

After I get what I need, I snatch the phone from Katie's hand and scribble the number on the napkin on my lap.

"B-Britt, what's going on?"

After I finish writing it down, I dump the napkin in my bag and pull out my wallet, sliding my black card to my sister as I jump out of my seat and fix my things.

"Take out my food and pay for the napkin, don't forget my card, I love you! See you!"

I don't bother turning around as I walk outside the door and slide the bar to accept the call.

"Santana?! Santana! J Lo!"

 _"Again with the J Lo?"_ Grunts the woman that has been plaguing my mind for days.

"Are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?"

She sighs on the other line. _"Honestly? I have a medial cut on my left cheek, a big fucking bruise on my thigh, and a motherfucking headache."_

"What's—What's going on?" I sigh, scratching my forehead as I look at my surroundings with tons of people walking around. "H-hold on, can you give me a second? I'm going back home so I can talk to you properly."

 _"Make it quick, time isn't my friend."_

Immediately, I get to my apartment and run up the stairs again, glancing down at the phone every few minutes to check if she's still on the line. "Are you there?!" I screech as I take two steps up at a time.

" _Shh, they'll hear you dammit!"_

I make my voice lower as I say, "They're there?!"

" _Just get into your damn place, sandwich girl!"_

I put the key on the lock and go inside as I hiss. "It's Brittany."

" _Well you call me J Lo so you have no say!"_

"Okay, okay, I'm in—I'm in." I sigh, locking my bedroom and then wondering after why I did that. "So J-Santana, w-where are you?"

 _"I don't know myself."_

"How long have you—uhm, been there?"

 _"Probably a week."_ She curses after, making whimpering noises as I try to be strong for her no matter how scary the situation is. _"Brittany, I need you to give my phone to Blaine Anderson, he's my secretary—"_

"I've met him."

 _"Good, then go to him, give him this phone and—"_

"How did you get into this situation?"

 _"I don't have time to storytell, Barbie! My life is in stake here and these fuckers aren't saints so just follow me, okay?"_

I furrow my eyebrows together in frustration and cross my arms together. "As much as I'd _love_ to help you, I need to know what's going on before anything else. I can't just do what you say without a conscience! We need to do this together."

 _"I fucking hate you!"_ She spits, causing me to nearly tear up from anxiety and pressure. _"Why can't you just give the damn phone to my secretary? I don't have time for this! This might as well be the only time I have and you're giving me a bigger headache."_

"Santana…" I say softly, "Just breathe."

" _No, you listen to me!"_

"I'm not stupid! I'm not!" I yell, pointing a finger at the wall like it's her. "We're both freaking out and I want nothing more than to see you safe and sound even if you're mean." I inhale and exhale. "But I need to know. Just trust me on this."

Santana doesn't answer for 10 seconds.

"I thought time isn't our friend here?" I hiss and that gets her attention.

 _"I caught a bunch of doctors in my facility selling drugs to some of our patients and non-patients."_

"Drugs?"

 _"Not the medicinal drugs, the bad ones, the high ones. I was checking the stock as usual when I bumped into one of the surgeons in our hospital and she dropped all these white packets."_

"Drugs." I say dumbly.

 _"Unfortunately for me, the doctor has back up and just before I could bring her out of the storage room to interrogate and report her, I got stabbed by a needle and then I woke up in this ditch."_

"But why haven't they killed you yet?" I ask, pacing around my room.

 _"Why do I have a feeling you're disappointed I'm alive?"_

I roll my eyes. "Time isn't our friend." I repeat.

 _"Because… Because only I have access to the security room that have the cameras inside the storage room that recorded them."_

"Then didn't the cameras catch the men that knocked you out?"

 _"That's the thing Brittany. The men that knocked me out were doctors from the hospital too."_

My eyes bulge out. "What?" I shriek in disbelief. "So basically—"

" _I have motherfucking dealers inside my general hospital, yes."_

"So it was easy to bring you out." I voice out my thoughts.

 _"I don't know how they brought me out but here I am."_

"Alive, thankfully."

 _"I hear sarcasm."_

"Time." I sing song, stopping when I hear her curse again. "How badly hurt are you?"

 _"Not so much that it pains me to talk to you."_

"I'm going to find you, Santana. I will help you."

 _"I know you will because if you don't, I'm killing you after I'm dead."_

I frown, ignoring her mean words yet again.

 _"So here's the thing, they are doctors so they know how to hurt me, but not kill me. But god, it fucking hurts. And until I give them the access codes of the surveillance camera that caught them with the drug packets, they won't kill me."_

"But they're going to keep torturing you until you do."

She chuckles sadly. " _Lucky for me, I'm hard-headed and tough."_

"No, no."

 _"And they can't kidnap my family members or blackmail me because one, my family lives in Rio, and two, I'm a clean slate."_

"So they're really just using torture to get it out of your system?"

 _"Yes, if I'm dead, someone will find my body sooner or later."_

"Unless they bleach your body." I mumble and it causes Santana to growl.

 _"Are you seriously giving me hope or loss?"_

"I'm just pointing out the facts! Why wouldn't they kill you if they knew how to use bleach?"

Santana stays silent and ponders.

 _"Dammit, probably because if I'm dead, they're going to use security footage to check my last appearance for clues and then they'll see the drug packets and ask her why she was the last person to see me before I disappeared."_

"See? Now you know why."

 _"Huh."_

"Okay, are there any windows in there?"

 _"None. It's pitch black, I have no fucking clue where I am."_

"How—" I stop, realizing something. "—How did you get this phone?"

A dark chuckle escapes her lips.

 _"It's not a phone, it's my pager—Well, it was my mom's old pager."_

"I don't understand?"

" _It's really old beat, back in the 90s when my mom was a doctor in the field herself. I bring it with me wherever I go as good luck. It's old and it doesn't have any contacts, hasn't been used since 1991 but I got it to work enough to make a call."_

"That's good." I sigh, leaning back on the wall of my room then nearly slumping in shame when I think about the fact I'm in a homey environment and Santana is stuck in some abandoned place, injured and bleeding and still, I'm not doing much of anything.

"I don't think I should give your phone to Blaine."

 _"What? He's my secretary, as soon as I tell him to go to the security area and get the footage and report it to the police, they'll arrest Elaine and—"_

"Is that the doctor you bumped into?"

 _"Yes. Dr. Elaine Smith, pediatric surgeon—why am I still telling you this?!"_

"Okay listen Santana, you said that there were 3 doctors that are responsible for this?"

 _"That's why I need to get out of here and protect my patients before they kill them! I don't even understand why they are doing this, they go by the code, and—and they don't need the money—so what are they after?"_

Santana's defeated voice gives me strength as I push off the wall and gather my things again.

"I know, and I promise you I will help you, but if you say that those doctors betrayed you and the hospital when you thought they wouldn't, I don't think you can trust anyone else in that hospital yet, Santana."

 _"What? No. Blaine has been my secretary for 4 years."_

"And how many years has Dr. Elaine been a doctor under your service?"

 _"5."_

"There. I don't trust him, his hair says enough about being not trustworthy."

 _"You've met him?"_

"Time isn't our friend." I mumble, squishing the phone in between my ear and shoulder as I grab a back-up charger in case the phone gets low-bat—wait. "How is your pager still on?"

Santana sighs. _"I've only got 2 bars left."_

"How long are those 2 bars?"

 _"Give or take 1 hour."_

"1 hour?!" I shriek, suddenly dropping my things. "How old is that pager?"

 _"I have never charged this thing in my life. It's been 2 bars since you've answered the phone and I'm pretty sure it's one bar now. So, tell me your plan Brittany because unfortunately, you're the only one I can trust right now."_

"First of all, I need the passcode to your phone."

 _"0000."_

"Are you kidding me?"

She chuckles.

"Now is not the time to make jokes, Santana."

 _"1116."_

"Okay." I say, grabbing the napkin I've used to write down her number to jot down the passcode.

 _"Don't look at anything, my messages, my pi—"_

"I don't think you have a say in this, Santana." I grunt, rolling my eyes at her immature attitude. "What do you have in there? Nudes?" I kid.

Silence.

I start blushing profusely.

 _"What else?"_ Oddly, she sounds flustered. It's probably her injuries getting to her.

"Okay, I'm going to leave your phone with my sister so that she can track your whereabouts and I'm about to head to your hospital to get the security footage."

 _"That's a problem."_

"What is?"

 _"Only 3 people are entitled to view those footages, and only 1 knows the code."_

"You know the code, so only 2 have access to the videos."

 _"Fuck. Either Blaine or Mercedes is a traitor."_

"Or both."

I go to the living room and pull out a chair, feeling shameful once again when I think of the situation Santana is in compared to mine. I stare at the clock and pray Katie hurries home after her last class and doesn't go off with her friends again.

"So how am I going to get those codes?"

 _"Can't you just find where I am and bring the police since I'm being held hostage and they are torturing me—we don't need the footage."_

"I plan to do that but these people need to be arrested for the drugs too."

 _"We can do that after you find me. I'll do it myself."_

"Santana, I will find you. I promised you, didn't I? Just tell me how else I can access those video footages."

Santana sighs. " _My life and hospital is at stake and you're being so stubborn."_

I clear my throat and look down at my feet. I didn't want to say what I have to say, but it's the only way to get it through her head. "What if they realize I'm standing outside their hideout with the police and decide to kill you on the spot?" I say in a weak voice. "Your life wouldn't be spared anymore since they're going to jail anyways."

Santana doesn't say anything.

"I'm trying to keep all my options open because I don't want you to die."

 _"The same thing could happen if you get those footages. As soon as they know you have them, they'll kill me."_

"They won't know."

 _"And how are you going to make sure of that?"_

"You tell me. What can I do? It's your hospital."

 _"I'm thinking, Brittany."_

"How much battery does your pager have left?"

There are shuffling noises and then Santana's voice comes back. " _Brittany, I have to go. I hear footsteps, they're back."_

Fear surges through my veins. "I don't—I can't."

 _"I'm hanging up."_

I don't want to leave her alone, to let her get hurt alone. Whoever those people are, they're going to get what's coming for them. I was never a fan of violence, and I don't think I ever will be.

"Santana." I whimper, feeling scared even though I should be strong for her.

 _"1116-6111-L0P3Z is the security access code. I don't know what you plan to do but I'll call you and I hope by then, you'll have a plan."_

"Please—"

 _"I'm going to be okay."_ She says, even though we both know she won't be. _"Bye Brittany."_

And it goes dead.

It's silent for a while in the apartment as I block out images of people hurting Santana in a dark room. I can imagine her snarky comebacks as I hear the door opening and my sister's voice enter the room. She stops humming when she spots me hunched over by the kitchen counter.

Immediately, she dashes to me and lifts my chin.

"Brittany? Britt? What's wrong?" She looks down at the black phone on my hand. "Is—Is it—"

With determination suddenly flowing through my veins, I press Santana's phone to Katie's chest and hop off the counter. "I need you to find the location of the last contact number that called this phone." I mumble, sliding the napkin with the passcode of her phone on it.

Katie turns to me and I look back at her. "I'll tell you everything later, I just need that location now." She nods and goes to get her laptop as I once again, pace around the area. When Katie comes back, she's plugging Santana's phone in the usb socket of her computer and goes right at it.

"Katie, let's say I have the access security code for the CCTV files but I have no authorization, no entitlement, and I don't know anyone who can do it for me—but me."

She continues to type as she glances at me briefly. "You have the passcode but you can't get them?"

I nod my head. "But I need them."

"Right, of course you do." She huffs, clenching her eyes shut for a second to think of a way herself. "I can't think of any other way."

Defeated, I continue to pace around. "I'm just a stranger," I mumble, deep in thought. "Why would they allow me to suddenly get those clips?"

"I could probably hack into it."

I snap my attention back to her. "You could?"

"It's not easy to hack without the passcode without getting caught, but since you have it, I can get you to the system and get the clips without anyone knowing."

I smile for the first time in a long 2 days. "That's brilliant! How can we do that?"

"Uhm—" she stops, giving me a cautious look. "I'd have to be in the hospital with you, connected to some wires that attaches itself to the main system."

My shoulders slouch down yet again, in defeat. "Too risky, we'll be caught as soon as you plug them in."

"You never know." She sing songs, causing me to roll my eyes.

"This isn't a movie Kate, we aren't going to rely on luck here. We need everything to go according to plan."

"You and your routines." She teases me, clicking a few more things on her computer before she stops and raises her hands in the air. "15 seconds earlier than expected!" She squeals, rotating the screen to face it to me.

A red blinking dot is all I see against a vast color of green and white.

Katie points at the dot. "This is where _909-466-4260_ is calling you."

Then she slides her finger down a couple of streets. "This is where we are."

"It's far."

"1 hour walk, 15 minute drive." Katie calculates whilst tapping her chin. "Whoever brought her there really didn't want anyone to try and find her quick."

All I can think of is drug dealers.

"Katie, never do drugs, you hear me?"

Katie turns to me with a confused frown. "Uhm, okay?"

"We need to think of a way to get those security footages." I sigh, exasperated.

"Well, legally, whatever the wife owns, the husband can get." Katie mentions with a faraway expression, probably deep in thought too. "Bank, house and lot, kids, everything!"

"Are you saying even—even authorization to security footages?" I gasp at the idea.

"I guess if it's an emergency?" Katie hums, tapping her fingers on the counter. "This sounds like a pretty good emergency."

"Like—let's say—the disappearance of my wife?" I grin, jumping on my toes. "And I'm worried and I need to know the last time she was seen in her work place?"

Katie winks at me. "Gotcha."

"You're a genius Katie!" I stop then. "But—but we aren't married."

"So get married."

The image of Santana's smiling face in her camera screen plus her in a long white wedding gown pops inside my mind and suddenly, I feel my heart throb.

"She'd be a hot wife, but a messy one."

I glare at her. "She's 1 hour walk away and I need the person physically beside me in court if I were to marry her."

"So let's get you the next best thing."

I am confused as I stare at her. "Which is?"

"When J Lo calls back, tell her we need to talk to her lawyer _."_

"Why?"

"Next to your wife, the most trusted person you can ever trust in because it is in the books, and it is their job, and they are for the law, is your damn lawyer."

Still, I'm confused.

Katie rolls her eyes at me. "Just—just give me the phone when Santana calls, alright?"

I nod my head dumbly. "Okay, okay."

* * *

Katie and I are slumped across the kitchen counter as we both wait for Santana's call, it's been 7 hours, nearing 10pm and I'm starting to get worried.

"Weird." Katie suddenly mumbles after a long silence, I tilt my head up and face her.

"What is?"

She nudges her chin towards the iPhone plugged to her computer.

"It's weird how you got into this situation."

I shrug my shoulders. "Fate's a funny thing." I reply nonchalantly, twisting a lock of my hair as we continue to wait.

Katie inches closer to Santana's phone, suddenly smirking. I narrow my eyes on her suspiciously as she unplugs it and giggles.

"What's so funny?"

Her smirk becomes more coy. "I just thought, we have someone's phone, her passcode and we haven't sneaked on it yet!" She snickers, sticking her tongue out at me.

My eyes widen at what she's about to suggest and quickly, I shake my head. "Kate, no." I hiss, walking to her side. "It's not right, Santana's in danger and we can't joke around."

Rolling her dark blue orbs at me, she puts in the passcode and opens the locked iPhone. "I'm not doing anything bad, and looking around is just _looking around._ You never know, we can find some important information that we might need. It could help us _help her_ faster."

I didn't know if it was Katie's explanation or my past conversation with Santana about not sneaking around on her phone that got me to suddenly agree. "I guess if you put it that way…" I mumble.

Katie scrolls down her messages and I just watch her, reading various names I don't know of.

"Huh, no boyfriend-"

"-or girlfriend." I blurt out, blushing when Katie flashes me a grin. "I'm just saying, we need to be open, you know." I say, gulping.

Chuckling, Katie closes the messages' app and taps on the photos icon, my heart suddenly beating faster for some reason, a near memory-

 _What do you have in there? Nudes?_

That must be it.

"Hey, she's pretty photogenic."

"Well, she's gorgeous, what do you expect?"

Smiling, Katie winks at me. "Your gay is showing, Britt."

I roll my eyes at her. "Just hurry up! I feel like we're doing something really bad."

"Yeah, yeah... _Oh."_

I snap my head towards Katie after hearing the sudden drop of her vocal cords and frown at her flushed face. Did I say something wrong? Did I make her feel guilty too?

"What? What is it? Did you find something?"

Clearing her throat, Katie nods and turns to me. "I found something alright."

Narrowing my eyes on her in confusion, I sigh and extend a palm out. "You're acting weird, hand me the phone."

Not noticing her smirk, Katie gladly places it on top of my hand and walks around the counter, humming.

I face the cracked screen and nearly chocked on my own saliva at the photo my poor blue eyes have laid on.

Damn J Lo does have nudes.

"Katie!" I shriek, not putting my eyes away from the god-sent image flashing before me. "Katie!"

"Yes?" She drawls out with a knowing smirk as she leans forward on her elbows.

"Katie!"

"What Britt?" She asks, giggling hysterically as I continue to ogle at the defined abs and toned curves of this beautiful woman-no, enchantress, in just her bra as her legs are crossed together to hide the hidden treasure that I badly want to see-uh-yeah. I curse at the puckered lips shown on the screen as her phone half covers her face.

"Katie!"

Laughing even harder, Katie doubles over.

"Katie!"

"Will you stop yelling my name?" She laughs some more, biting her lower lip to try and stop it.

"Katie!"

I almost felt paralysed, my eyes couldn't move, and so couldn't my body either.

"Now that's what I call a bathroom selfie, huh?" Katie teases, causing me to jolt in place as I blush furiously and slide the phone back to her.

"Remove it!"

"Bluetooth it?"

My face could not get any redder. "No, I said to take it away from me!"

"Take what away?"

"The damn _photo._ " I hiss.

"Why don't you do it?"

"You opened it!"

"Is your Airdrop on?"

I tug on the ends of my hair as I pace around the kitchen floor. "I'm going to kill you."

"And sent!"

Twisting my neck around to face her, nearly snapping my head off, I yell, "What?!"

Katie giggles at me and winks. "Just kidding. Your phone is in your room, Britt."

Oddly, I feel disappointed and relieved.

More on the former.

"Just continue charging the phone." I grunt, slowly walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"The bathroom." I reply back.

"Cold shower?"

"Shut up, Kate!"

* * *

"What if she's dead?"

"Rude, Kate." I hiss, flashing her a glare.

"No, no, I'm just being realistic."

"They wouldn't kill her." I say, shaking my head. "Not yet."

Katie stares at me with a tilt of her head. "You know what else is weird? Of all people, it was you that found that phone on her office floor."

I may have already told bits and pieces to Katie as I took a cold shower-yes.

"Waiting sucks."

"Then let's voice out our plan again."

I nod my head and straighten up a bit. "As soon as Santana and I have our marriage certificate, I will act as a distressed wife to the security area and demand to see the last time she was sighted in the hospital which I will then secretly report to the police."

Katie nods, continuing for me. "And to make sure they don't kill J Lo before we get there, we will tell them to try and arrest the people in this crime at the hospital without letting them contact their people and then demand they release J Lo without any harm."

"And if they lie about where Santana is, we already know where her location is."

"And to make sure nobody else we don't know of besides the 3 doctors are in that place all ready to kill her, we need to-"

"-we need to make-" I choke a bit on my saliva. "We need to make Santana survey the area."

Katie stares at me again, clearing her throat. "They're probably going to beat her up for what we're about to make her do."

I nod my head, feeling an ache in my chest. "It's the only way to know where in that place she's _exactly_ located so that we can make the police rescue her without any chances of getting killed."

"Just tell her to run all the way downstairs and as soon as she sees the front door, get caught-"

"-and wait until she's back in her room, and know the directions to that too."

Suddenly, and finally, Santana makes a call.

I immediately pick up and put her in speaker phone.

"Santana, are you okay?" I immediately ask, and nearly bite my lower lip when I hear how disgruntled her voice is.

" _J-just dandy, B-Barbie."_

Katie has the same look that I had a few hours ago.

"Why do you sound like that?"

Santana grunts. " _I may have busted a lip after biting the bitch's hand."_

I smile weakly. "Such a tough girl."

Silence, and then I realise she doesn't know Katie is on the line too. "My sister is listening, you're on speaker. We don't have time for formalities so let's cut to the chase, give us your lawyer's name."

" _What?"_

"Just do it Santana."

 _"Ugh, fuck."_ She grunts again. " _Okay. She's in my contacts list. Her name is Shelby Corcoran."_

Katie nods and clicks on the phone number.

"We're going to make this a 3-way call, and as soon as Shelby answers the phone, just go with the flow okay?"

 _"I don't under-"_

"Santana! I haven't heard from you in so long!"

 _"H-Hey Shelby."_ Santana says in a very hoarse voice.

"Santana? Why do you sound like that? Are you sick?"

 _"N-No, I'm fine. My-uh-Brittany needs to speak to you about something important."_

"Brittany? Who's Brittany?"

I immediately cut in. "Hi, I'm Brittany Pierce, about to be Santana's wife."

 _"What?!"_

"What?!"

The both of them scream and I slap my forehead weakly. Stupid of me to just come out and blurt out but I had no preparation.

"Never mind, this is harder than I thought, we're going to have to waste time instead and explain everything." I mutter, nearly throwing something against the wall because I know Santana's on a time limit with her 1 bar battery. "The movies make this so easy."

Katie giggles lightly at my reaction and leans in to whisper. "Chill down Britt, you aren't even married yet." She joked.

I glare at her as we listen to Santana sigh and explain everything to Shelby through the phone.

After a few minutes, but god, it felt like hours to me, Shelby sounds distraught.

"This is a 911 situation, Santana! Why don't we call 911 or the police and have them arrest Elaine already? They could kill you if we don't do that right now!"

 _"Shelby if you arrest Elaine, I'll be killed in seconds."_

"But I have a plan." I suddenly say, wanting to get started. "Santana this is going to sound stupid but at least we now have a lawyer to hear about this."

 _"Well you don't have much time because I'm a bar left."_

 _"_ Shelby, Santana and I need a marriage certificate so I can access the security footage in the hospital and catch Elaine and the 2 doctors in the act."

"I can see what you're trying to do here."

I nod my head. "Yes, but how can I do that if Santana isn't physically here?"

Shelby immediately answers. "Proxy marriage."

Katie joins in. "What's that?"

"It's when one isn't physically able to be at the wedding. It's usually given to those in the army or in jail."

Santana grunts. _"What about kidnapped?"_

"I can fake a military license or prison record good enough to last a day before an officials notice it's a fake?"

 _"Are you seriously considering giving me a fake prison tag? Why not a military one instead?"_

Shelby ignores her. "Can you put that in the system?"

"For a day only and then I'll have to shut it off before they put me in jail themselves."

"Okay, do it now and send me the registration number so I can start on the proxy marriage requirements. Brittany, you'll have to meet with me in the court tomorrow morning."

"Can't we do it now?"

 _"Are you going to prison tag or military tag me?"_

"Court's already closed. It's already midnight sweetie."

I check the clock and in fact, it already is. I huff in frustration. "What's the earliest time to do it?"

"Court opens at 8am. I know a person that can squeeze us in. Santana, I just need you to say you accept this proposal on this conversation which I will record and use as a statement combined with a written one. I have all your other requirements."

 _"Okay, now?"_

"No one speak." Shelby instructs us all and then I nod to Katie. "Okay go." She says.

 _"I, Santana Lopez, incapable of being physically able to marry my fiancé, Brittany, will allow this-"_

"Stop. You need to say her full name it's more believable that way."

 _"I don't know her whole name!"_

I roll my eyes. She could just ask and not make me spit it out.

"Brittany Susan Pierce."

"Okay, Santana, go."

 _"_ _I, Santana Lopez, incapable of being physically able to marry my fiancé, Brittany Susan Pierce, will allow this proposal so that I may be her-uh, wife."_

"Is that okay?" I ask in disbelief.

"That's good enough for the judge. Okay Brittany, I need you to bring your birth certificate-actually, bring every damn file you have on you."

I nod my head even if she couldn't see me. "Got it."

A wail goes through the line. "Oh no, it's my baby girl. Is there anything else I'm needed for?"

"No, that's it. We've got the rest."

"Okay, and Santana-"

 _"Shelby, I'll be fine, Brittany's got a plan."_

"Okay-" she sounds doubtful to leave, especially with the situation Santana is currently in so I assure her.

"I got her, I'll see you tomorrow, yes?"

Shelby sighs and apologises once more. "Call me if you need me, and Santana, stay safe."

Shelby is off the line and Santana shuffles some more on the phone.

 _"What else do you need to save my sorry ass?"_

"I'm glad Shelby is gone actually because what we're about to make you do is something I can guess she won't allow."

 _"And what exactly is that? You're already forcing me to marry you woman, what exactly could you possibly not make me do anymore that I won't agree on?"_

Katie leans in with a smirk. "Isn't your fiancé charming?"

I ignore them both and continue my words.

"For the rescue mission, we think it's better to know your exact location."

" _Okay."_

"You know, so we can get you before they kill you. This is going to sound crazy but... I need you to make a break for it, make it look like you're escaping the scene and count how many floors up you are and rooms down."

 _"Are you crazy?! Do you really want me dead?!"_ She yells, her throat scratchy.

"Santana- I hate this as much as you do-"

 _"Nada Blondie, no me gusta!"_

"I don't know what you just said but we need this." I sigh, gritting my teeth together. "I don't want to do this to you and be a person of violence-"

 _"_ - _What the hell are you saying?-"_

"-but I don't want you to suffer anymore than you do."

Silence. It was my cue to continue.

"After you find the front door, you get caught, and know what side of the floor you're being kept inside."

 _"Is that all your highness?"_

"Will you marry me?" I make light of the situation, wanting to distract her from the pain she in and about to have even more. From the hell she is burning on.

Thankfully, Santana chuckles. _"I don't really have a choice here."_

"Save your battery, Santana."

 _"Why can't you just save me and forget the whole footage thing? I'll do the fake escape now, call you, and you can come get me."_

I'm about to explain that part when Katie jumps in.

"That could work but we wouldn't have any proof for the police to get a search warrant on your kidnap hideout. This crime footage is what we need to save you. We can't just break in."

 _"Smart."_

I gasp. "I thought of that!"

Santana chuckles again and lets out a long whine of pain all of a sudden.

"Hey, hey-" I say, nibbling on my lower lip. "Go get some rest. We'll save you tomorrow. I promise I will get you Santana."

 _"Better make it quick. I hate scars."_

I smile, looking at the cracked screen with her smiling face on the home page.

"Are you kidding me? We're getting married tomorrow."

* * *

It's late at night and I'm wide awake as I stare up at the ceiling, counting sheep inside my head.

And then, Santana's phone starts to ring. I pick it up, slightly tense about why she could be calling me. Different scenarios pop in my head, like how she got caught, how they found her pager when she made a break for it and many more, but my anxiety calms down when I hear her smooth velvet voice.

 _"Hi wifey."_

A small smile forms on my lips. "We're not married."

 _"Yet."_

Nodding my head even if she couldn't see me, I sit up on my covers and hug my knees close to my chest. "A-Are you okay?" I ask, nibbling on my lower lip.

 _"Luckily, they spared me."_ She jokes, causing me to frown at her, not finding this situation funny at all.

"I'm not laughing Santana, did they hurt you?"

 _"Will you stop it?!"_ She suddenly hisses, surprising me.

"W-what?"

 _"Just stop it okay, I can't handle it anymore, yesterday was fine but now I just want to punch you in the face."_

Her words strike something inside of me and I find myself pointing a finger to no one in particular. "What is your problem? There is seriously something wrong with you! I'm here helping you out and all you say back to me is that you want to make me sad, miserable and oh-punch me." I ruffle my bed-hair. "If you have a problem, you just have to deal with it because I'm going to save you, I don't back down on my promises."

 _"That's it! That's exactly what's bugging me."_

I frown. "What is?"

 _"You wanting to save my life!"_

"What?" I dumbly reply, confused beyond measure. "You are so freaking-"

 _"Why do you even care?"_

My eyes nearly bulge out at her question. "Why do I-" I stop, shaking my head. "Sorry to say but I'm not like you, I'm a good person and you're in a bad situation, I'm not leaving you behind."

 _"No, no, why do you-care so much?"_

"I care so much?"

 _"Yes! It's like-it's like, I don't know what it is but it's different, I feel like I'm worth something the way you're caring for me right now."_

A small smile forms on my lips. "Silly, you're alive, that's worth something already."

Santana lets out a long sigh. _"But these past few days I have a strong feeling that this happened because I don't deserve to live anymore. Maybe I was fated to die and your plan is bound to fail."_

I pout. "Hey. That hurts."

 _"That's it! I hurt everyone without even knowing, yet someone like you comes into my damn life and makes me feel-worth it."_

"That's a lot of feel you're having." I joke.

 _She laughs lightly. "Believe me, a bitch like me deserves something like this. I knew something bad was about to happen to me, with all the mistakes I've made."_

Oddly, Santana opening up to me in her lowest point gave a surge of strength inside me. It was like I wanted to prove to her that she shouldn't give up so easily, or feel so defeated all of a sudden.

"Don't do that, don't say you deserve this kidnapping and torture."

 _"But I do, trust me, I do."_

I shake my head. "It doesn't matter how many bad deeds you've done, what matters are the good things you do."

 _"I've done more bad than good."_

"Doesn't make you a bad person, Santana. You are good, you just don't know it-or, you just need someone to guide you."

 _"You don't think I'm a hopeless case?"_

I smile, giggling lightly. "I don't have a say since I'm getting married to you in less than 12 hours."

Santana returns the laugh, causing a flutter to erupt inside my stomach.

 _"I'm sorry for what I said earlier."_

"You might have to help me recall what you said because there's a lot of things you should be sorry for." I joked, but somehow, Santana took it seriously.

 _"I know. And I will make it up to you. I promise."_

Promise.

 _"And I'm sorry for saying I hated you...I don't."_

"I know you don't." I reply, licking my lips as I lay back down and stare at the ceiling.

 _"You know?"_

"I know because you're not a bad person."

Santana chuckles.

 _"You know Brittany, with all my cuts and bruises, being dehydrated and hungry, being stuck in the dark for almost an entire week, being alone, somehow, just somehow, you managed to make me feel like I'm in the beach drinking a mojito."_

"Wow that sounds like fun."

 _"It does."_ Santana says.

"But I'm happy I get to remove some of your pain."

 _"You're more than just removing some of it."_

* * *

Part II End.


End file.
